The Capitol's Escort
by BarnumOnTheBrain
Summary: It's one of the many dark nights on the train to the Capitol after the Reaping for the 75th Annual Hunger Games, and all Haymitch wants Effie. All he needs is her. That's all he's ever needed. But he is not the only love in her life. Oneshot.


**My first Hayffie fic. I ship them so hard. I really hope, one day, they're confirmed as canon. I shouldn't think they will be though. Sigh. Anyway, this took me a while to do… it may get some more chapters, depending on the response to this pilot, as it were. I really hope all you Hayffie shippers enjoy this!**

"Haymitch?" asked a tentative voice from the other side of the thick door, followed by a light tap. "Haymitch, let me in. Please?"

He remained still, almost as if he hadn't heard her, slumped against the foot of the cold bed. His eyes stared blankly at the bare wall opposite him, his hands clasped tightly over his knees.

"Please?" said the voice again. It was pleading with him. Effie never pleaded, not with anyone, not ever. But she was now. She was pleading with him to let her in. There was another tap, and his head turned slightly, allowing both ears to hear her efforts. She asked once more, her voice muffled through the door, and he heard the pain in her voice. It was enough to push him stiffly to his feet. He walked slowly to the door, his joints aching from being still for so long, without the usual alcohol to loosen them. He opened the door slowly and was greeted by her nervous presence. She had taken off her Capitol mask – gone was her extravagant wig, gone was the thick powder from her skin, the cloths that adorned her body so tightly in the sunlit hours replaced by a soft robe. Her light brown hair grazed her forehead and fell into her sea green eyes that penetrated his grey ones so deeply. Her mere glance sent a jolt through his body. This wasn't Madam Effie Trinket, the Capitol escort – this was just Effie, the woman who enjoyed a sneaky beer at the end of the day, who could quite happily crawl into a pair of sweats and a baggy tee. This was _his_ Effie.

"Effie," he said in a gruff greeting, taking care not to hold her gaze for more than a moment – her eyes looked painfully red, something he didn't want to think about too hard. The idea of her pain stabbed at him as though it were a physical thing.

"Oh Hamyich," she whispered, her forehead creasing. "Darling." She took a step towards him, closing the cold distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. It took him a moment to respond to her closeness, but in a moment he had pulled her close to him, bringing his strong hands across her back. He nestled his nose into her soft hair and inhaled her clean scent. He preferred her like this – she wasn't a pawn in the Capitol's game when she was like this, she was just a woman, as vulnerable to their powers as anyone else was. She didn't look like the rest of them, she didn't sound like the rest of them, she didn't even reek of roses like half of them did. He allowed his lips to rest on her neck, and she pulled herself closer to him.

"Do you want to talk?" she mumbled against his shoulder, leaning her head into his.

"About what?" he answered quietly. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the thoughts that began crashing down onto him. "About how it's starting again? About how all the friends I ever had are going to their deaths, fighting head-to-head against the only two kids I ever managed to save?" He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "About how I'm going to have to watch it all over again? Effie, they're all the family I've got," he whispered.

She wiped away the tear that was sliding down his cheek and brought his forehead down against hers. "You've still got me, Haymitch. I'm not going anywhere," she breathed.

He pulled away from her and staggered to his bed. It hadn't been slept in since they got on the train. The mattress sank underneath his weight as he sat heavily on the foot of it and he put his face into his worn hands. His whole body ached from Peeta's training, from the lack of alcohol that usually loosened his aging joints and from her. He longed for her once more, the way he did last time, the way he did every time he saw her, when he didn't see her, when she was there and when she wasn't.

Effie stood in the doorway for a moment, pulling her arms around her protectively and looked at him. He was a broken man. The door swung shut behind her as she took dainty steps towards the bed. From between his fingers, Haymitch could see her slippers on the ground between his own shoes, his body could sense her close proximity. Slowly, she brought his head out of his hands and her face came close to his, her fingers twisting into his dark Seam hair. Her lips hovered over his for a moment, a mere breath away, and moved across his cheek. She laid soft kisses on his olive skin, leaving the spots she touched tingling, each one sending a rush through his body. The way she caressed his face, his neck, his arms and hands, with her gentle mouth really was exquisite.

His hands found her legs, her hips, her waist, through the thin garment that adorned her body and he found the tie. It came loose easily in his fingers and he tugged, looking up into her shy face. She nodded slightly, and his cold hands found their way across her bare skin, bringing a sigh to her lips. He smiled slightly, savouring the sound he had teased from her.

"Haymitch, I've missed you," she said quietly, holding tightly onto his wrists as he guided her to sit next to him on the soft bed.

"I've missed you too, Effie," he said, his voice hoarse. "And I'm not afraid to admit it."

Her fingers traced the stubble that encircled his mouth, and he caught her hand, leaning his cheek into it and kissing her long fingers. Her eyes were captivated by the muscles in his face, the soft skin that touched hers and she felt her whole body lean towards him.

"Kiss me," she whispered, her face inches from his. "Kiss me, Haymitch, like you used to."

His tongue protruded from his mouth for a moment as he considered her. He loved her. In moments like this, he was sure of it, he knew he loved her. How could he refuse?

His kiss touched her lips softly, gently, at first, hardly pressing into her at all, but the mere contact sent a jolt between them, and in a moment she had swung her legs across his lap, straddling him and bringing her mouth against his fiercely. It had always been like this. The electricity, the desire – it never really went away. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his carefully pressed shirt in her rush to push the cloth from his strong shoulders, leaving his olive skin bare beneath her careful hands. Their tongues met in a fiery kiss, fuelling the lust that pumped through their veins as one of Haymitch's hands slid up her soft thigh, finding the knot of tension between her legs. She brought her mouth away from his in a gasp and he took his chance to lay kisses along her exposed neck, pushing her robe away from her shoulders and mumbling her name against her skin.

A knock at the door registered somewhere in the back of her mind as Haymitch's influence threatened to overcome every rational thought she possessed.

"Come back later," Haymitch said, loud enough for whoever it was to hear.

The knocking continued followed by a voice: "The Capitol on the line for Madam Trinket."

"Effie, leave it," Haymitch whispered, reaching up to meet her lips once more with his own. "Please."

"Okay," she replied quietly, smiling against him.

The knocking and the voice came again. Haymitch felt her pull away slightly with every knock, and he remembered. He remembered why he always left the Capitol each year broken. It wasn't enough that he had to watch two children, two of his own, die at the hands of the Capitol in games of fate – he had to lose her to them every year. It had always been the same, ever since she had been appointed as District 12 escort; they had fallen in love, over and over again, but she could never fall out of love. She could never give up her love for the Capitol and all they gave her, for the love of a simple man from a simple town. And now, he was losing her again.

"Effie, please," Haymitch pleaded as she moved off his lap finally and pulled her robe about her. "Please, don't leave me."

"Haymitch, I have to," she replied, looking anxiously at him. "I'll come back right away, as soon as they're dealt with. I promise, my darling."

And she turned away. She opened the door carefully and followed the attendant with quick, small steps away from him. The door swung shut behind her and Haymitch was left alone on the cold bed, his hands still warm from her.

She didn't come back that night.


End file.
